When Spring Never Ends

Spring is the color of my youth,

The hues of our love, still fresh and new.

When I start to feel bound by time,

I’ll remember me and you.

But for now, I can still sit and write,

Whenever I want to,

Without my hands of old

And restless eyes, once filled with memory of you.

I want to remember us this way:

Awake and amused.

When I begin to forget the sound your car made,

Or the smell of its exhaust that once exhausted me,

I will have turned my back on everything.

My breath will be the last thing they take from me.

As long as I am here, you will be here with me.

Your laughter will live inside me—

It will rumble without ceasing,

Until it makes me cry.

I know I’d hear your voice

Reminding me how beautiful life is:

Almost as beautiful as this sunny day,

Almost as beautiful as the middle of May,

As we call from miles away.

Almost as lovely

As the boy I love more each day.

Spring is only three months long,

And the years linger and fade.

But you are the season of my life.

In every wrinkle,

In every way.

Traces of you remain, unkempt,

Like a spring with no end.

You are the fallen blooms,

Filling every corner of my heart,

Reminding me of Him who is full of grace,

An everlasting spring of life,

No hope greater than this.

And when I remember us in old age,

I am no longer afraid.

Even in my inevitable fragility,

I hope you’d still see me—as me.

Picture by Melodie Cha